


Earned It

by kayxpc



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Fluff, M/M, andrew basically tells a reporter off, defensive!andrew, what a proud bf he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:56:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10644135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayxpc/pseuds/kayxpc





	

Andrew's blood was still a hot-white rush in his veins after the last goal was made. Nine-five, foxes favor had a nice ring to it. The buzzer had sounded and the team swarmed Neil, who'd made the last goal, screaming their victory. It felt _good_.

Perhaps, not quite as good as what came after. He'd drawn the short straw for press duty, apparently. While everyone filed into the locker room, he stayed in the hallway to wait for Nicky to finish _getting pretty for the camera_. Neil came jogging in, his steps heavy on the linoleum. His hair was soaked through with sweat, that stupid bandana holding it off his forehead.

"You," he said decidedly, pausing in front of him for a moment. "Were amazing out there," he finished, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, farther to press another under his ear. He was still panting, breathless from the thrill of another win under his belt. It was fire in Andrew's ear as he nipped the lobe between his teeth affectionately. Andrew's eyes drooped traitorously for a moment, then snapped back open. Neil pulled back, radiating happiness, and asked "Columbia, later?"

Andrew shrugged. Neil shrugged back mockingly, his smile playful. Andrew couldn't bare to look at him anymore, the sickening warmth in his stomach becoming too much. He walked off to go deal with the reporters alone. The possibilities of Columbia turned over in his mind, predominately including a flushed, moaning striker. He pushed that thought as deep as possible once he rounded the corner. The reporters started squawking when they saw him approach, stepping over each other to get a shot. He answered a questions plainly, one about his thoughts on Neil's captaincy next year. After a few minutes had gone by, Nicky still hadn't shown up. Andrew dismissed the rest of the questions and turned to leave, already imagining a hot shower.

"... that was Andrew Minyard, goalie of the PSU foxes. Minyard's only comment on Josten's effortless talent and rise to the top–"

Andrew turned back around.

"Excuse me?"

The woman started, turning around to blink at him stupidly. Her blazer was a blinding pink and her hair curled perfectly on her shoulders.

"I said that–"

"I know what you said. You said effortless."

The woman's face turned understanding. She shifted her stance so the camera could catch the both of them.

"Many people are saying that Josten does not deserve to captain the team. After all, he was a rookie coming in, and a lot of fans don't value natural talent over hard work and dedication to the team like Danielle Wil–"

"You reporters are all the same. Haven't got a fucking clue."

Every camera and bright light seemed to move in closer. They had probably been hoping for him to cause a scene, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care.

"He is not going to be the captain of this team because he had 'natural talent'. He's going to be captain because he fucking _earned_ it. When he came here we were the worst team in the south, and he was a shit striker; but instead of listening to people like you, who don't know their ass from a hole in the ground, he worked hard. He trained, he got better, he became the best. And now, he's going to be captain because of it."

The reporter took it in stride, in her defense. She straightened her lapels on the blazer as if his words had ruffled it. She made a hmmm sound with her ugly peach lips.

"And would you also like to comment of the rumors of a relationship between you and said _best_?"

This bitch didn't miss a beat. Where the _fuck_ was Nicky? He hoped dead somewhere.

"Fuck off," Andrew finished, stalking away without another word. When he walked into the lounge post-shower, everyone started clapping. They were strewn across the various seating and the TV mounted in the corner of the wall was replaying the interview.

"Fuck off," he repeated.

"Iconic," Nicky grinned.

Andrew sent them all a death glare that made everyone resign to walking to the vehicles. He switched his sights to Neil but didn't relent. He was smiling, that stupid, _ugly_ smile.

"You're so good to me," Neil hummed, wrapping an arm around him. The bastard milked that extra inch of height.

"I hate you."

"Nobody's going to believe that now," he said as he gestured to the screen.

"I told the truth," Andrew said simply. He hadn't gushed over Neil or serenaded him on live television - which is what Neil is acting like.

"I know. You always do. Kiss me."

Andrew obliged, partly because he'd waned to since he'd seen that stupid bandana in the hallway and partly to shut Neil up. Neil wrapped his other arm around him so that they were draped over his shoulders. It wasn't a hug, it was just being close to one another. Neil hummed into his mouth happily and Andrew parted before he got distracted enough to lock the door and just spend the night here.

"Columbia?"

"Columbia." Neil agreed giddily, sliding his hand between Andrew's and squeezing.


End file.
